


Oral Fixation

by elena_stidham



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Depression, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Vanilla, basically dan is depressed and phil is the bestest boi, stuff coming in and out of dan's mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 03:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14662356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elena_stidham/pseuds/elena_stidham
Summary: "Forget the future. What makes me happy in the present if that's something that I'm trying to achieve? Well, that's pretty simple: laughter, food, and sex. ....So basically, stuff...coming in and out of my mouth, apparently."





	Oral Fixation

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS FOR: Language and pure, fluffy smut  
> SONGS USED TO GET IN THE MOOD: A lot of different things, but mainly video game soundtracks – specifically, Zelda.  
> So before I get started on my next chaptered fanfiction, I wanted to write some more Phan porn because something clicked in my head while I was waiting for an interview. Yeah, this is porn with a poor excuse of a plot. So!! I’m just going to dive right in (I’ll write more Phan that isn’t porn don’t worry I just needed to get this out). Feel free to send more ideas to me that you want me to write! ALSO! I CHANGED MY TUMBLR!!! I am now elenastidham. But anyways! Thank you guys once again for reading and I hope you enjoy!  
> -Elena

_Good morning. It’s gonna get better._

Most mornings, he doesn’t need this reminder. Dan repeats this to himself, thinking it’ll work – that suddenly if he repeats this enough times it’ll be true – thinking he’ll be better by the end of the morning.

He isn’t.

Phil notices. He sees it in the way Dan’s fingers ghost along the cabinets and the shelves in their fridge, desperately looking for something to spark an appetite, but eventually settles on a glass of water in hopes he wouldn’t be questioned about skipping breakfast.

_He’s feeling it again._

Dan finds himself lingering in the kitchen, condensed in a corner, trying to shrivel his body into ash and dust; he’s thinking, maybe he’d fade away. He takes a sip, then dumps the rest of the water in the sink, leaving the glass upside down.

He leaves, drifting back to his room, trying to avoid Phil’s eyes, even though they both knew better.

And Phil leaves him alone. He stays behind to let Dan do as he needed, but he wasn’t going to ignore it.

 

* * *

 

“Get your shoes on.”

Dan’s head pokes out of the covers, his eyes focusing and landing on Phil, who’s dressed up and ready to leave. Did they have something today?

“Where’re we going?” Dan mumbles.

“Out to eat,” Phil responds nonchalantly. “Get ready, you don’t want to miss it.”

It takes a moment to kick in, and it takes a soft and desperate plea of “Daniel” for Dan to finally push himself out of the bed and rummage around for some clothes. Nothing looks right, but he has to settle if he doesn’t want to be late.

There’s a point when Dan notices Phil isn’t rushing him, that there’s no hassle or hustle or even a word out of line about the pace he’s going. They may not be running late after all, which relieves Dan just a bit to know he isn’t ruining everything again.

He finishes, and it’s then when Phil gently smiles at him and tucks his hands under Dan’s arms, squeezing softly and kissing his forehead. “Try to eat when we’re there, yeah?”

Dan nods.

There’s a simple squeeze again, a softer smile, and tender tugs gently gliding the pair along to where they were going to be.

It calls itself the Reverie. Within it, Dan finds that suddenly he’s growing an appetite, perhaps it’s because of Phil – or the smell of food – but it could be something else that lingers within the air.

They had a reservation – and with ease Phil guides them to a little table for two, reaching under the table as they sit to hold hands. Dan’s hand is soft and lightweight, almost non-existent against the firm and tender squeezes that Phil would provide.

“Try to have a good time,” Phil asks quietly with a gentle stroke of his thumb against Dan’s wrist. “I’ll wait as long as you need.”

Dan takes a deep breath with a nod again, this time squeezing Phil’s hand as he tries to look for the cheapest thing on the menu. If he has to waste it, at least it wouldn’t be too much.

“If you’d like, I can order for you,” Phil says softly.

Dan likes the idea. They order spaghetti. Phil doesn’t let go of his hand.

When the food arrives, Dan tries to make himself eat as much as he can, even if he wants to throw it back up. There’s an area of silence between two people, and with a breathy chuckle through the nose, that silence is broken.

“Say, Dan,” Phil begins with a small laugh.

“Oh no—”

“—I was thinking about a video idea for next April Fool’s Day—”

“— _Oh no_ —”

“—It’s going to be called ‘Dan and Phil’s Sex Tape’—”

“— _Phil_ —”

“—But when they click on it it’s just going to be the ‘Two Bros Chillin In A Hot Tub’ vine on repeat for ten hours.”

Dan snorts, pressing his lips together but not hiding the fact that they’re curled upwards in a smile, and he brings his hands up to cover his face as he’s resorted to a small fit of giggles. Phil grins, not saying anything as he feels a rush of accomplishment for managing to get that reaction.

“That’s evil,” Dan laughs lightly. “I love it.”

Phil smiles. He listens to Dan laugh – it’s a music that accompanies no orchestra, a composure beautiful strictly on its own. If he could, he’d have that melody playing in an auditorium of one, and it’d be a song that’d never end.

Because of this, Phil notices, Dan eats just a little more.

The waiter returns at some point with more breadsticks while they’re given the time to look over the dessert menu. Dan’s eaten about half of his spaghetti at this point, and he’s not really thinking about something sweet with it. Phil orders something for them to share.

“It’s going to go to waste,” Dan whines slightly, quietly.

Phil shakes his head. “If you won’t eat any of it, I will eat all of it. Just try to finish your dinner, yeah?” A sudden idea pops into his head, and he reaches over and grabs a breadstick. He points it at Dan and raises his eyebrow while cocking his head to the side just slightly. “Bread Sword fight?”

Dan gives him a look.

“I mean, I would suggest a different kind of fight but we’re civilized and we’re in public.”

 _“Jesus Christ, Phil,”_ Dan snorts, before shaking his head and giving in to grabbing a breadstick. His smile stretches from ear to ear. “I thought you weren’t a sausages kind of guy.”

He’s cracking jokes now.

“I said sausages in the morning, but it’s evening now, so I definitely am a sausages kind of guy now,” Phil flirts with a smirk. It’s absolutely terrible, and it immediately causes Dan to knock the breadstick out of his hand with a simple whack.

“Christ,” Dan laughs when Phil’s torn breadstick flops to the table. He wobbled his own breadstick before it, too, broke and fell. “These are flimsy as hell.”

Dan eats his breadstick, and halfway through his chewing he pauses, then whispers, “fuck, I’m _hungry._ ” He doesn’t look up at Phil, but continues to eat.

This time, Phil notices, Dan eats until there is no more.  

 

* * *

 

By the end of the night it’s raining. A consistent pitter patter along pavements and rooftops echo music throughout London streets and corridors.

A taxi isn’t hard to find – a swift hand in the air caught a driver’s attention within a minute, and for the last remaining moments of their date the pair held hands quietly in the back seat. There’s a moment, where there’s only a humming silence from the car, when Phil finally speaks as the cab passes a sign.

“Road work ahead? Uh, yeah, I sure hope it does.”

Dan snorts, letting go of his hand so both of his hands come up to cover his mouth to muffle himself. He always had a loud laugh, and he doesn’t want to disturb the taxi driver more than they are already – they’re quoting fucking vines for god’s sake, he’s probably annoyed.

Instead, he hears the driver chuckle too.

Dan turns to face Phil, who, in one swift motion, gently pulls him close to where Dan finds his head is resting on Phil’s chest. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he feels a hand slowly brush through his hair.

They ride the rest of the way home like this, in complete silence.

Dan notices when they go back home that colours are more vivid. He sees a particularly bright glow from each light again, and when Phil joined him in the room, it was as if suddenly everything was decorated with stars.

They lock eyes for a moment, taking each other in, before finally Phil steps forward. He lingers, hands gently tucking under Dan’s arms and holding him close. He glides his lips across Dan’s face like a ghost, drifting by his lips and waiting there. He would only continue if Dan initiates it.

And he initiates it.

And when they kissed, suddenly the world didn’t seem to end anymore. They start slow, lingering and desperately holding onto each moment that their lips would touch before this pace starts to change. Phil squeezes his grip on Dan’s forearms gently, prying their lips apart for just a moment so that they could look at each other.

“Do you want to?” Phil asks.

Dan nods, leaning in again but Phil leans his head away.

“I want you to say it, Dan,” Phil says quietly. He knows that sometimes, when Dan feels this from time to time he doesn’t really want it. He knows that sometimes, he’d think that mindless sex would be a solid distraction to keep him off of his own mind. It would never work. “I need you to be sure that you really want this.”

Dan’s eyes gaze up and down Phil, who, with a reassuring squeeze on his arms, places a gentle his on his forehead. “I want to, Phil,” Dan whispers quietly.

“Please be specific.”

“I want you to make love to me.”

Phil pauses. Dan isn’t really the type to use that phrase often, he’d just call it like it is; but when he does he’s referring to a very specific type of sex – one they haven’t had in a long while. “Is that what you want?” Phil asks with a warm smile.

Dan’s faint smile is missed in the blink of an eye. “Yes, I want that.” His voice is natural, soft and almost inaudible, but still very powerful.

There was no need for repeating themselves. Phil removes a hand from Dan’s arm and with it laces his fingers through curly hair, gently pulling him close so they can kiss once again. There is no time for small and unloving, but instead only the most tender can fill the void.

Dan’s arms snake around Phil’s waist, keeping their bodies pressed together until they have to move. Phil tries to keep them together, gently stepping to the side so they could head upstairs to a bed, but Dan has other ideas. He pries away from Phil, for just a moment, so he could gently push him onto the couch instead.

Phil starts to stand. “We’re not doing this here,” he starts to speak.

Dan pushes him back down by his shoulders. “I know,” he says, before kneeling down between Phil’s legs and starting to pull down his pants – just enough so he could do what he wants to do. This is where Phil understands what he means.

Taking a deep breath, Dan glances up at Phil for brief reassurance; and after receiving a sure nod, he looks back to the pink cock right in front of him, gently holding it steady with his hand. He starts with a simple, lingering kiss at the base before leaning in and wrapping his pretty lips around the tip. 

Phil’s moan is soft, not wanting to react so much just yet since Dan really hasn’t even started, but once he feels a tongue trail down the underside of his length, that’s when he becomes vocal. Dan always loves this part – someone normally so restrained finally unravelling at his doing.

Dan places his hands on each of Phil’s thighs, sliding the cock between his lips until Phil’s breathing starts to pick up pace. He’s getting close. He threads his fingers through Dan’s hair, petting him like a kitten until he has to grip.

Dan closes his eyes at this point, allowing himself to completely concentrate on the hard cock in his mouth and listening to the music that was Phil Lester’s moans. He can’t deepthroat, but that doesn’t stop him from trying again, resulting in him yanking his head back to cough and breathe.

Phil laughs, reaching over and tucking a finger under his chin so their eyes can meet. “Every time, Dan. You do this every time.”

“I think I should probably give up, yeah?” Dan laughs with a harsh cough that rips his throat.

“Hopefully,” Phil chuckles, before rising to a stand and gently pulling Dan off of his knees. “Come on, I want to save this energy for the bedroom.”

Phil’s pants stay behind in the living room.

Dan’s neck is the first place that falls victim to Phil’s lips once they’re on the bed. Teeth tug at flesh with hands in two different places – one gripping onto Dan’s wrists, and other slowly teasing the growing bulge beneath dark fabric.

“I don’t want you to think,” Phil breathes into his ear, sliding his hand from Dan’s wrist and cupping his cheek. “Don’t even think about me. Just close your eyes and focus on the feeling, okay?”

Dan bites his lip and nods. He knows he can trust Phil when he says this – he’s the type that gets off on somebody else’s pleasure – and so for Dan this is a win-win situation. “Phil, Phil, _Phil,_ ” he whines, rolling his hips into Phil’s hands. He loves the way Phil’s name sounds, the way it feels when it slides off his tongue; he loves how it brings him warmth.

“I’ve got you, Dan,” Phil whispers softly. “I’ve got you.”

Phil knows exactly what to do – he navigates his way around Dan’s body like the back alleys and crooked corners of Manchester. He remembers exactly what buttons he has to press. To summarise, arousing Dan is a simple two step process: beginning with lips on his neck, and hands trailing all across his bare skin.

Dan pushes against Phil’s fingertips, allowing more pressure to press into his skin, but Phil brings one hand to his chest and gently shoves him back down to the mattress. “Just feel,” he whispers, and Dan nods.

Phil brings his hands to Dan’s hips and tucks them under his shirt, taking his time to glide his fingers along Dan’s chest. The shirt bundles under Dan’s chin as Phil moves his lips from neck to nipple, triggering a soft, audible moan. Phil closes his eyes as his tongue swirls around perky flesh, slowly trailing his hands up Dan’s sides to push the shirt past his head and off his quivering body.

Phil sits up, taking a deep breath and looking down at starry eyes, smiling slightly as he fumbles his own shirt off so he won’t forget about it later. His hands reach down and tug at Dan’s pants, before finally pulling everything off in one final sweep.

He takes his time. He gives Dan every possible opportunity to drink in the moment and savour each kiss – they haven’t been like this in a long time. Another occurrence makes its return tonight, something that Phil isn’t the craziest about, but he knows it’s one of the few ways to get his lover leaking and squirming within sixty seconds.

Phil trails his tongue down his thigh, then places gentle kisses on the little dip between the bones. He pushes his legs upwards, and from the top of the bed, he hears a gasp.

“Phil,” he begins, and is stopped with a ghostly shushing.

“Don’t think,” he repeats, before finally bringing his face down to the pink, throbbing hole. Now, Dan will swear up and down that Phil is probably the best when it comes to eating ass, but to Phil, going down on someone is probably his weakest performance in the bedroom. It’s not that he hated it or actively avoided it, it was just something he wasn’t asked to do often. His mentality on eating someone out is the same as Dan’s when it came to swallowing: if they insist, or to be polite. Right now, it was to be a little more than polite.

But it got Dan completely _moaning._

It sounds like he was singing – a type of music with methodical notes and purpose – and he rolled his hips into his craze. One hand reaches down as the other stays behind, tangling into Phil’s hair as he bit his index finger to keep himself from going off the deep end.

“Phil,” he sings, like a prayer that he hasn’t recited since the Sundays of his childhood. _“Phil.”_

Phil hums, finally rising to his knees on the bed and reaching into the side drawer. The scent of strawberry fills the room as Phil uncaps the lube, then returns to where he was. This process is always one finger at a time.

As he starts with the first, he returns his lips to Dan’s face and neck and made sure that this time wouldn’t hurt. He rests his forehead against Dan’s temple, his hot breath caressing warm skin while cool fingers slowly stretch. The second finger isn’t that much different, but Dan definitely feels more pleasure out of this one.

“Do you need more time?” Phil whispers. Dan shakes his head.

Phil nods in response before finally he pecks his lips and glides in between his legs once more, adding just a little bit more lube to the entrance before finally adding the last amount needed to slick himself. He aligns, and with one gentle kiss to Dan’s lips he slowly starts to push in, feeling himself wrapped around Dan’s walls.

Dan whines, rolling his head back and taking a deep breath when he feels Phil’s hips flush against his own. Phil waits, bringing his arms to either side of Dan’s head and resting them there as he brings his lips down to decorate Dan’s neck once again. Hickeys have a particular sting about them, and as Phil is working on his newest masterpiece at the crook of Dan’s neck and just above the collarbone, he slowly starts to move – just enough – enough to where Dan can be that much more accustomed.

“Don’t be so gentle,” Dan breathes out, quietly.

“That’s…kind of the point of making love, Dan,” Phil laughs. He presses his lips to Dan’s cheek and plants his finger there after he pulls away. “Try not to think,” he repeats.

Dan nods, this time closing his eyes to focus on the feeling of Phil.

Phil. Phil. _Phil._

It’s a name that’s as beautiful as the man inside him, tingling off his tongue and rolling with the ocean waves. _“Phil.”_

Making love always seemed to spoil Dan. From when he was eighteen all the way up until this very moment, it was always a special night that had a tendency to replay over and over in Dan’s mind until some other moment.

And with Phil, there were a lot of moments.

Phil takes Dan’s hands and presses soft kisses to his face between each thrust, keeping his movements slow and careful, but just enough for Dan to enjoy himself. Soft moans escape his throat and press against Dan’s humming lips, their fingers intertwining. They squeeze their hands. Tears prick in the corners of Dan’s eyes.

When this first would happen, it would scare Phil to death. He was always so petrified of hurting Dan and he was sure he had done it – it wasn’t until several other times when he came to the realisation that this just came with the territory. Whenever they’d make love, Dan would cry. It wasn’t something that he could help, but it wasn’t something bad either. If anything, it now makes Phil smile just slightly, knowing that he had filled him with enough emotion to cry it out.

Phil kisses his wet lips across damp cheeks and smiles and Dan warmly, feeling wholeness in his chest when this smile is returned.

“Dan,” he whispers. “How are you feeling, Dan?”

“’S good,” Dan says with a breathy moan. “Don’t—”

Before he could finish his words, he feels Phil brush against his prostate. His body jolts, clenching his walls around Phil and letting out loud cry. “Fuck, right there,” he practically sings.

Phil pecks his lips and continues to grind his hips in the same area as before, relishing in the sounds coming out of Dan’s pretty mouth. Phil picks up his pace – just a little, but keeping the same amount of emotion pouring behind every thrust – and presses his fingers into the dip on Dan’s thighs to keep his angle.

 _“Phil,”_ Dan whines. Phil understands.

He takes one hand and trails it down his skin until he wraps his cool fingers around Dan’s throbbing cock, twisting his wrist slightly every time he jerks him off just to add extra physical pleasure. Phil isn’t really that close, but he doesn’t mind. This isn’t about him, after all – and they’ve had their fair share of cases where it was the other way around.

Finally, Dan comes. His back arches and his toes curl as he his silence rings in their ears. When he’s done spilling across his own chest, finally, Dan’s able to breathe, slumping back down onto the mattress and looking up at Phil.

“Did you—” He starts to ask.

“How are you feeling, love?” Phil asks, not wanting to say he didn’t climax, because he’d knew Dan would feel guilty and then obligated to do something about it. He just wanted Dan to be in a better spot than he was in this morning, even if it was only slightly.

“I’m tired,” Dan says, quietly, opening his arms as an invitation. Phil smiles and nods, but then crawls off the bed. Dan makes a noise that just sounds like a pointless whine, but then he sees Phil return with a wipe.

Dan stays quiet as Phil cleans his chest, but once they’re finished, they practically climb into each other’s arms. Dan tucks his head under Phil’s chin and lies there, feeling Phil’s heartbeat and the gentle touch on his hair.

“I love you,” Phil whispers quietly.

Dan smiles, softly, genuinely – refreshingly. He stays quiet for a moment, before he finally closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, and just says one more thing before the silence takes them over.

“Phil Lester, you make me so, so, happy.”


End file.
